


délicieux

by lokidreamsinbw



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day, armie being armie, so sweet it'll make your teeth hurt, timothee's pineapple kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 22:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidreamsinbw/pseuds/lokidreamsinbw
Summary: Timothée works in the bakery shop on Valentine's day. The manager wants him to kiss each person that orders today's special--dolce de leche ice cream sandwich, a small peck on the cheek, thinking it'll get the girls coming to buy sweets excited. It's been a few hours already and so far no one has ordered it. But then, a handsome American arrives and he's in the mood for something sweet.





	délicieux

Timothée pushes the ear bud in deeper, keeping his eyes on the tray he's carrying. It's the song #1 Crush swaying inside his brain all sweet and hot and sticky, two small ice cream cups (purple with white dots, glorious strawberry+aromatic vanilla) the chatty couple from table 4 ordered. Afternoon blue wind in his hair, the taste of pineapple on his tongue—cause it's Paris and it's Valentine's Day and he owns a cherry chapstick but he's wearing the pineapple one cause _Valentine rebel!!_ (he wishes he had a bf but he's a big reader and some guys find it super boring).

 

He moves around an empty chair trying not to knock it aside with his hip, keeps his eyes locked on the tray. And he thinks just 4 more hours and he's saved. Cause the bakery n' ice cream shop's manager had the cool cat working the kitchen make a special treat just for today and tomorrow (dolce de leche ice cream sandwich—milk chocolate coated biscuits with red fondant hearts all over the top one) and he told Timothée—

 

"Someone orders that, you give 'em a kiss. Nothing scandalous now, we don't want a lawsuit. But a peck on the cheek, you know? The girls would like that, you're such a beautiful boy. Look at you! Narcissus' curls."

 

He had it written down on a sign by the door in French: _order today's special get a special kiss!_

 

How many minutes in 4 hours?

 

Timothée plasters a giant smile on when he gets to table 4, mouth closed, lips really shiny,  and starts unloading the tray.

 

6 x 4.

 

Add a 0.

 

God. _240 minutes??_

 

" _Merde_!"  Timothee hisses _cause 240 minutes, there's no way no one's gonna order this stupid ice cream sandwich in that time frame—_

 

"Excuse me?!"

 

Timothée shakes his head at the couple like _wasn't talking to you_ , and starts walking backwards, looking around to see if anyone wants to o—

 

Someone tries getting Timothée's attention by holding up a book. The cover catches the light and it bounces off it, skittering across Timothee's lips and cheeks, warm and shiny.

 

Timothée kinda stares at the man for a while cause this dude looks like a movie star. Bronze-colored hair, side part, hair falling to the right all fluffy and soft and it looks like it smells delicious, like orchids and spring whispers. Round neck earth-colored sweater making his shoulders look huge and, dare Timothée think it, protective? Jeans the color of cigarette ashes, comfortable shoes, beautiful ankles showing a bit. Just the perfect bit of stubble, long long lashes and playful blue eyes.

 

The man spots Timothée spotting him and brings his hand down, lightly tossing the soft cover book onto the table.

 

And yep, some lyrics magic happening there. The singer goes _I would die for you_ and Timothée's knees go weak cause yep, he would, this guy is stunning.

 

Timothée starts heading towards the table, rubbing his lips together, sugar and juicy pineapple. C'mon lips, shine! Be pretty, I need you to be pretty.

 

The man relaxes in his chair, sliding his phone across the table. It hits a napkin holder and stops in its tracks.

 

"You speak English?"

 

Dear god, that voice. American accent.

 

"Oui!" he shakes his head and smiles a little, "uh—yeah."

 

The man takes the sunglasses off his hair real slow and hangs them on the front of his sweater, squinting a little at Timothée cause pure afternoon light piercing innocent pupils.

 

He looks Timothée over for a few moments,

 

_I will crawl on hands and knees_

_Until you see_

_You're just like me_

and then: "what's your name?"

 

"Ti—" an unexpected embarrassing gulp cause fangirling brain, "Timothée."

 

The guy crosses his arms and _shit, pecs!_ Smirks up at him, "Armie. You got a menu for me, Timothée?"

 

This sex god has just said his name and Timothée screams a little (ok, a lot!) inside, "yeah, sure."

 

He reaches for one—has some of those stuffed inside his left pocket—and hands it over.

 

Do their fingers touch?

 

Yeah, they do and it's an electrical storm on a purple Valentine's Day afternoon.

 

Armie looks over the menu, toying with the round neck of his sweater and it's smooth skin and gorgeous tendons at his neck, a faint shadow fluttering over his adam's apple.

 

"Business or pleasure?"

_Shit what is he even saying??_

 

Armie glances up at him, clearly amused, "excuse me?"

 

"Sorry!" a mortified giggle, "I wanted to ask if you're just visiting Paris or if you're living here. I have no idea why I just said that."

 

Armie looks at him and Timothée swears this look says _no? well, I do._

_To be close to you._

_To be part of you._

Armie looks down at the menu again, "I live here. Have been for a month now. Always wanted to be part of Europe."

 

Timothée nods. He's never seen him around before, could have sworn he's a tourist.

 

A gust of wind winds itself around the legs of the table, curls itself around Armie's ankles, around his waist, then it ruffles his hair lightly. Armie touches the back of his neck, rubs his palm over his vertebras. So he felt it too.

 

"Uh…"

 

He sticks his little finger between his teeth. Timothée has to force himself to look away.

 

"I'm just going by the pictures here," Armie says then leans over and shows Timothée the menu, pointing to what he wants to order.

 

They got the updated menus this morning and Timothée kinda freezes cause Armie has his finger right on the fucking dolce de leche ice cream sandwich.

 

Timothée licks his lips, clears his throat, "you sure?"

 

Armie smiles and frowns at him, "that's a weird question, why wouldn't I be?"

 

Timothée opens and closes his mouth cause should he lie and say _don't order that cause it's past its best by date—_

"The chocolate mousse is superb," Timothée tries.

 

" _This_ please," Armie insists, tapping the pic with his finger, "the dolce de—how do you pronounce that."

 

"Leche. It's Spanish."

 

"Why, thank you _Wikipedia!_ " he smiles super amused into Timothée's eyes, "I knew that."

 

Okay, act professional.

 

Timothée gently takes the menu from Armie's hands and puts it in his pocket, "anything else?"

 

Armie hasn't stopped smiling the whole time, "no, thank you. That will do."

 

Timothée tries to sound cheerful, "Ice cream sandwich coming right up."

 

Inside the shop it's fun music playing and dizzying vanilla scent everywhere. Timothée takes one ice cream sandwich out of the giant fridge and plates it. He sets the plate aside on the counter and whips out his chapstick. He puts a fresh layer of it on, smacks his lips together, trying not to think of what's gonna happen next.

 

240 minutes and 0 ice cream sandwiches, that's all he asked for.

 

He carries the plate back to the table. Places it in front of Armie.

 

A lovely faint _clank!_ As ceramic and glass meet.

 

Armie sits up, shoving his big hands between his knees, eyeing the treat.

 

"Oh, wow."

 

Timothée takes a deep breath.

 

C'mon kid it's now or never.

 

Armie shakes his head, "this looks deli—"

 

Timothée leans down fast and kisses him on the mouth.

 

The music explodes in his ears, loud and beautiful.

 

_You're such a delicate boy_

_In the hysterical realm_

Timothée hears Armie blinking all surprised and his breath rushes past Timothée lips.

 

_Of the emotional landside_

_In physical terms_

Heart pounding in his chest, Timothée moves to pull back.

 

But then it's giant warm palms cradling his face and Armie pulls Timothée's face down and kisses him—playful and sexy and hot, smiling into the kiss.

 

Timothée's cheeks burn under his fingers, they burn like the sun, and Timothée thinks this blush will now spread all over the sky, all over the city, the whole world, tainting everything pink.

 

_You hold a candle in your heart_

_You shine the light on hidden parts_

_You make the whole world want to dance_

_You bought yourself a second chance_

Do they kiss for the entire 3rd verse of this song? Yeah they fucking do and it feels amazing.

 

"Mmm…" Armie murmurs into Timothée's mouth, " _délicieux_ _."_

Panting cause where did all the air go, Timothée manages to pull back a bit and breathes out a: "I thought you didn't speak French!"

 

Armie looks super pleased with himself, runs one hand through Timothée's hair, smiling a little out of breath himself, "yeah, well. I wanted that kiss, but I didn't want you to think I'm being an asshole about it. Didn't want you to know I could read what it said on that sign over there. Sorry, not sorry."

Timothée  lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head.

Armie picks up the ice cream sandwich, smiling all crooked, sweet sticky vanilla all over his fingers, "share?"

 


End file.
